


Survival

by Scriptor_Bellum



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Praise Kink, Psychological Trauma, Survival Horror, Torture, sneeze kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-18 00:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scriptor_Bellum/pseuds/Scriptor_Bellum
Summary: Ren trapped them both. Lawrence. Bridget. They're like cornered animals. He knows this house; they don't. But he's also inexperienced. They aren't.Maybe things can still turn out okay...





	1. Prologue: Crossing Paths

**Author's Note:**

> WHOOP. My first full-length BTD fic.
> 
> This is... tbh... more of a glorified multi-chapter sneeze kink thing that's gonna include a LOT of exploration of other stuff. There'll be warnings in each chapter's beginning notes so you'll know what to expect! Here's the warnings for this chapter.
> 
> **Warnings: Mentions of alcohol. Some disturbing comments in narration and dialogue. Not too much.**
> 
> This prologue was actually written as a fic of its own, but it works really well as a prologue to the full fic, so I'm throwing it up here to give a little background between Lawrence and Bridget before the actual plot starts.
> 
> Remember to leave comments if you like it! You can suggest how I should go in the story, what you'd like to see as Law and Bridget struggle to stay away from Ren... etc., etc.!
> 
> Above all, enjoy!! <3

She can’t be looking at him, he thinks. But she is.

She can’t be smiling at him, he thinks. But she is.

She can’t be coming over to talk to him, he thinks. But she is.

And he panics.

As soon as the woman has sat down next to him, his hand is quickly around her upper arm. He didn’t even want Ren seeing him like this, and he’s _friends_ with Ren. Isn’t he? He definitely doesn’t want a pretty girl seeing him like this. “Y… you should leave…” His nose scrunches up a little, feeling the tickle that’s been bothering him trying to return. Ah, not now, not now… “I-I’m just waiting for my friend!”

If his actions or words turn her off at all, she doesn’t show it. The smile she wears fits her like it’s just a piece of clothing she slipped on. She looks like the kind of person who would have been popular in high school – bright brown eyes, perfect caramel skin, curly black hair bouncing around her face and down her shoulders. Lawrence is just focused enough to realize that she’s **beautiful**. What is he supposed to do? Beautiful people are all pretenders, just like pretty flowers. With flowers, he just has to care for them and then just go about his normal life. He doesn’t know what to do around beautiful _people._

“ _Hih–! Hihhtsch_ _ **HHOO!**_ ” The one thing he’s sure of is that he shouldn’t suddenly pitch forward and sneeze practically in her face, but that’s what he does. Oops. His hand tightened up reflexively, and he winces as he hopes her arm doesn’t bruise. That’s definitely not what he meant to do.

As soon as he regains his bearings, (which takes longer than usual since the fever is messing with his brain), he notices she’s laughing and carefully prying his fingers from her arm. At first the sound of her laughter is like wind chimes. Then it just makes him angry… and worst of all, self-conscious. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose… there’s no need to laugh at him, is there? “I-I’b sorry…” is all he’s able to mumble out. His hand snaps back to his drink, fingertip playing with the ice. On another night, he might actually glare at her and be a smart-ass and ask what’s so funny. He doesn’t feel well enough for anything but the barest tinges of anger, though. It’s already kind of receding. “That… just… I-I didd’t bead to…”

“No, no, it’s okay. Bless you. Sorry, I just thought that was cute.” Her voice is just like he expected it to be based on the sound of her laugh. There’s an accent, something… European? British, maybe? It’s lilting and soothing and she sounds like a good, gentle person. He’d liken her to a lily, just for comparison. He almost regrets being mad at her a few seconds ago. Without warning, her hand sets against his cheek, and that smile of hers softens into something more caring. “I know you said you’re waiting for your friend, but are you okay? I’m sure they’d understand if you went home. You’re clearly under the weather, love.”

His response is a thick sniffle as he rubs at his nose. All the tissues he brought are gone, and it feels like he’s a mess. “W-we’re godda leave… as sood as he… g-gets… ba… back… _hehh! Hehhts_ _ **SSHHHOOO!**_ _Ahhhtss_ _ **SHHUUU!**_ ” Sinus pressure pounds against his forehead and he can’t _breathe._ It still itches. A few attempts to clear his congestion by sniffling result in only a fit of coughing that’s forceful enough to leave his upper body parallel with the bar. His breathing probably sounds ragged, he’s tired, and his nose feels chapped all to hell. All he wants to do is go home and sleep. When is Ren going to come back from the bathroom? How long does it take a person to go to the bathroom, anyway? He’s been in there for, like, five minutes. “S… sorry… agaid…”

Her hand is on his back now, rubbing circles before she starts tracing the length of his spine under his clothes. That alone makes him insecure enough. Not only is he not the skinniest _or_ most muscular guy, the curve of his spine – something a person can only know by touching it like that – isn’t that attractive. What if she notices? “Poor dear! My God, but listen to that cough. You should be in bed. Have you taken anything for that cold?”

“D… do…” Admitting to that makes him feel guilty despite having no reason to. Why should he feel bad? This woman’s a stranger, too pretty for her own good, and maybe a bit too nosy. Besides, he’s tried medicine before. It doesn’t help. “I-it dever works for be.”

“Tsk. Poor dear.” Her hand moves, this time grabbing some nearby napkins from the bar. “Here, it…” Her face darkens with blush for a moment. “I-I mean, it just – it sounds like you need to blow your nose. Can’t be very comfortable.”

He’s about to politely refuse when another sneeze doubles him over. “ _Hehhtschh_ _ **HHOO!**_ ” One hand stays over his nose, because in all honesty, that one was disgusting. His palm feels wet, and it makes him wince. (Not that it’s any huge news that he’s repulsed by himself.) His free hand scrambles for the offered napkins, grabbing a few before turning away from her so he can clean himself up. After that he blows his nose; it doesn’t make that much difference. All it really does is plug up his ears a little. A groan leaves his lips, and his fingers move to rub at his temple. Not only is all this sneezing and coughing taking it out of him, his body’s starting to feel achy and heavy. Is his fever getting worse…?

“ _Bless_ you!” Her cool hand pats against his forearm, then switches quickly to rubbing. “Oh, look! I think that’s your friend!”

Lawrence can’t bring himself to go any faster than usual, simply straightening up and turning to glance at Ren coming from the direction of the restrooms. “O-oh… Red, you’re back…”

“Red? Can’t say that’s a name I’ve heard before, although it certainly fits you!” The woman’s voice is muffled by the pressure in Lawrence’s ears, but she still sounds as sweet and lovely as when she was talking to him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Bridget.”

There’s a stifled laugh from the smaller boy as he gives the lady – Bridget? It’s no _Lily,_ but it’s a pretty name – a punch on the arm in greeting. The blonde’s arm aches in sympathy just watching, remembering the same thing he’d gotten when he met up with Ren earlier in the night. “Nah, it’s not _Red!_ His nose is just all stuffed up. My name’s Ren, actually. Nice to meet you, too!”

“Oh, well… heh. I-I knew that, I mean – I mean, I knew he was…” Her voice trails off, and Lawrence feels another sympathetic pang tug at his heartstrings. Seems like she’s no better with words when she’s flustered than he is normally. “Um, well. You know?”

“Pfft, yeah, I get it. No worries. Glad to see he made another friend while I was in the bathroom!” Those little fangs that Ren has are displayed quickly as he smiles, looking both toward Lawrence and toward Bridget. “Welp, this place is closing soon. How about I buy the three of us one last round?”

“Oh, actually, I can’t, loves.” Bridget gives the two of them an apologetic smile. “I have to be up at eight in the morning, so I should probably go home and get some sleep.” That begs the question of why she’s stayed at the bar until nearly 2:00 in the first place, although Lawrence most definitely doesn’t have the courage to ask. “Wish I could, though! You two seem like a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll see you later!”

Ren seems disappointed, although he doesn’t very clearly let it show. He just flashes her a toothy smile and hops up onto a stool. At least he doesn’t seem too broken up about it; that’s just kind of how Ren is. Somebody he’s just met isn’t going to keep his interest if they don’t stay around. “Too bad! I hope we see each other again. Next time I’ll definitely buy us all a round!”

To be completely honest, Lawrence doesn’t want either of them to leave. He’s barely spent enough time with Ren like this compared to all the time they’ve spent together online. As for Bridget, she’s just kind of… well… she’s different than the other beautiful people he’s met. Both of them are people he wants to be around. He can’t really express that, though, because it would sound… weird. It might scare them both off. So instead he just buries his face into the last napkin from the pile Bridget gave him, and sneezes again. “ _Ahh–ahht_ _ **SHHOO!**_ _Heh–htschh_ _ **HHUUUU!**_ _Hih–! Hixtss_ _ **SHHIEEUU!**_ ” It makes his eyes water, but he gives a couple of forceful blows immediately afterwards. It still doesn’t help. In fact, he feels more congested than before. “Nnghhhh…”

Bridget’s up on her feet and her hand gives a small squeeze to Lawrence’s upper arm. “God bless you! Goodness.” The way she laughs is almost worried, despite the fact that she’s just met Lawrence. Is she really concerned for a guy she doesn’t know? “Well, it was nice to meet you both. Look forward to seeing you two some other time.”

She’s buttoning up her jacket now, and her hand lingers for a second on Ren’s shoulder after she’s done. It looks like she doesn’t really know what to do around Ren. She’s certainly not going to return the punch he gave her. So her hand just hovers awkwardly, giving the smaller man a friendly pat. “Make sure you get home safe, mate!”

“– _Hih–hihhtcch_ _ **HHOOO!**_ ” It’s actually quieter than the rest of Lawrence’s sneezes have been, but his face flushes regardless. A sneeze isn’t exactly a proper goodbye. All he can do is sniffle and reach for another few napkins, even though he knows that blowing his nose isn’t going to do anything.

That worried giggle of hers returns, as does her hand on Lawrence’s arm. “And _you_ nurse that cold, darling. You hear me?” As a surprise to everyone, Bridget leans over and presses a tender kiss to the blonde man’s cheek. She pulls away to reveal a pretty pink print of her lipstick on his pale skin, seeming none too bothered about what she’s just left behind. “A kiss to make it all better, eh?”

Her laugh as she turns to flounce toward the exit is different. It’s light and airy and maybe a little anxious. She just…? It’s something he can’t make sense of. She just kissed him, and  _ she’s _ the nervous one? A flawlessly manicured hand waves back at the two of them as she opens the door to leave. “Take care, boys!”

Almost reflexively, Lawrence’s hand raises in response, as if to give a wave back to someone who’s gone now. He rushes to play it off as raising his hand to cover his mouth as he starts to cough again. He hears Ren make some comment about how they can have a last round by themselves, but he’s not really paying attention as the smaller man heads off to grab a couple more drinks.

He’s already had enough drinks to make him feel a bit tipsy. The drink Ren gives him after Bridget leaves is swallowed down anyway, because it would be rude to refuse. The alcohol isn’t why his stomach has started swirling, though. It’s not because he’s sick, either. That woman was… kind. Her beautiful smile won’t leave his mind, and what’s more, neither will her words. She’s not like any other beautiful person he’s ever met. She didn’t lie, or pretend, and… and that kiss… that wasn’t really her way of trying to get what she wanted. It wasn’t a trick.

It was all real. Her kindness wasn’t some kind of façade.

Maybe she’s an exception. Maybe she’s the one beautiful person who’s actually good inside.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the actual first chapter now! Some quick warnings for...  
>  **-mention of drugging (Ren having drugged Law's drink at the bar)  
>  -violence  
> -bondage  
> -threats  
> -blood  
> -horror  
> -sneeze kink (illness, dust allergy, sneezing while gagged, a little mention of mess)  
> -whump  
> -sort-of torture  
> -crude dialogue**  
> Whew, I think I covered everything. This is a BTD survival horror fic, though, so. Y'know. A few warnings from the games apply to the whole fic in general lmao.  
> Anyways, enjoy!! Remember to leave a comment if you like it, let me know what you wanna see more of! <3

The next time that Lawrence sees Bridget outside of the pub, her hair is different. Maybe it’s not something he should be concerned with right at the moment. But he notices it.

It’s really only a day or two later. (He thinks, anyway. He’s not sure whether it’s the next day or the day after that.) This cold of his is lingering, and yet, that’s not his biggest problem. The biggest problem he’s got is that his so-called friend Ren is apparently a psychopath, because the night that Lawrence left with Ren, after Bridget had already gone home… he can’t remember any of it. All he remembers is starting to walk home. Then he recalls feeling dizzy and even sicker. Then he woke up – fastened to a chair with thick rope, a rough cloth tied in his mouth, and inside a dark closet in Ren’s house. Honestly, the worst part of it so far has been the few hours before Ren came into the closet to ‘check’ on Lawrence. He didn’t know where he was or what was going on. Not to mention his nose is still completely stuffed up, meaning that it’s been _hell_ trying to get sufficient breaths in. It’s a miracle he hasn’t suffocated. … Yet.

He’s tired, hungry, and needless to say, this isn’t making his cold any better. The struggle of breathing has left his throat raw. The closet’s not  very clean, which has kicked up his allergies,  and it’s not exactly… fun… sneezing while he’s gagged and bound.  Not only can he not even attempt to cover his face, his cold means that his sneezes are messy right now. The result is that he’s got several different trails of mucus on his shirt now. Some are dry, and some are still wet since they’re recent. He’s starting to feel lightheaded again, and all he wants is to leave, go home, sleep, not have to deal with all of this anymore.

The second time Ren comes in, his face is mischievous in a way that Lawrence can’t say he particularly likes. “Wow, Law.” A red eyebrow is raised at the mess all over Lawrence’s shirt, as well as (probably) the snot creeping out of one nostril. “I leave you alone for a few hours and you use yourself as a tissue. Gross!” That impish smile never leaves his face, though. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you, so maybe we should get you cleaned up before I bring her in here.”

_ Her? _ Lawrence blinks a few times as Ren pulls out a cloth to wipe the mess off his face and the still-wet spots off his shirt.  The only “her” that he and Ren both know, as far as he’s aware, is Bridget. Surely Ren can’t be talking about Bridget? Why is she here? It makes him panic, because if she’s here, he wants to scream at her immediately to GET OUT. Maybe Lawrence isn’t the best person, but Ren did all of this deliberately. He’s not sure what Ren’s plans are; however, he knows that whatever they are, they can’t be good. Good people don’t tie up people who are supposed to be their friends in a dark, dusty closet without any provocation. “Mmm… hhh…?”

“What’s that? Speak up!” Ren chuckles almost sadistically. He knows damn well that Lawrence can’t speak properly right now, and that’s why he thinks it’s funny, and _God,_ Lawrence wishes he could use his arms. More than anything right now he wants to punch Ren in the  mouth and get rid of that stupid, awful, manipulative smile. He hates manipulative people. “You wanna know who it is? That’s a surprise, silly! It wouldn’t be a very good surprise if I just told you right now. You need to find out for yourself. But I’m sure this is what you both want. Don’t sweat it too much, bud. The two of us will be back in here in just a minute.”

There’s a bad feeling swirling around in the pit of Lawrence’s stomach as Ren leaves the room.  _ Oh, God, oh, God,  _ _**oh, GOD.** _ What can he do? Is it really Bridget he’s bringing in here? What’s he bringing her in here for? Is he going to tie her up too?  What the HELL is Ren doing?

He doesn’t have to wonder for long. The door opens pretty quickly, revealing Ren (who’s apparently stronger than he looks) pulling Bridget into the room. Her hair is different than it was the night they all met –  the same springy, tight curls are piled on top of her head in a  disheveled bun. Those pretty brown eyes of her are staring at Ren, at least until she gets a look at who’s in front of her. “Lawrence?” There’s some kind of collar thing around her neck, too, and it doesn’t strike Lawrence as the kind of fashion statement she’d willingly wear herself. Did Ren… put that on her? Why? What is it? “Goodness, Ren, this isn’t a very funny surprise!”

She laughs softly, as if it’s all very amusing. It doesn’t seem that the full weighty darkness of the situation’s actually dawned on her yet. Either that makes her too innocent or just incredibly sweet. “I mean, well, it’s a little funny… you knew I liked him, right? Tying him up like this, haha! You’re so silly, Ren.”

Lawrence’s nose scrunches up as he feels the tickle blossom in his sinuses again; whether due to the dust or his cold, he’s not really sure this time. Then again, he’s not been  _ too _ sure which it is this entire time. “ _ – HssS _ _**XXS** _ _**SS** _ _**H!** _ _ Sss _ _**XTS** _ _**SSS** _ _**HH!** _ ” Damn it, that hurts.  Every sneeze makes his chest ache and the muscles in his stomach tense up. Not to mention that a new strand of mucus has started to trickle down his face. “… Nngghhhhmmm…”

“Oh, dear! Bless you, poor darling!” Bridget moves forward, gently grasping at his gag to pull it down. “Let’s get this off you straightaway! Ren, you should have known better. Making him so uncomfortable for a sake of a joke, tsk. Poor Lawrence should be in bed, not–”

“ _ **RUN!!**_ ” is the first thing that Lawrence screams as soon as Bridget pulls the cloth down. The tears falling down his cheeks are both from his allergies and from the fact that he’s scared out of his fucking mind. It’s bad enough that he’s gotten into this situation, but if he can get Bridget out of it, that’s where all his energy is going. Thick wrists struggle against the rope, despite knowing he’s probably not going to be able to get out of this. Ren tied it pretty tight. He’s still got to try, though. “ _RUN, BRIDGET! H-HE’S CRAZY!_ ”

Her eyes go wide, and she turns to look at Ren, who’s slammed the door shut and is now slinking around Lawrence’s chair. “Ren? What on Earth is going on here, mate?”

Ren just snarls at her, although the look is replaced with a sly grin in an instant. It shows off all his fangs, as well as all his danger. “Oh, shut up. ‘Mate’ means something different to beasts like me, so unless you’re prepared to back that word up by spreading your legs, stop calling me that.”

“Wh–” Bridget’s mouth drops open in shock. Lawrence can’t say he blames her. That was a _disgusting_ way to talk to her, and if Lawrence’s arms were free, he’d deck Ren in the face once for that comment alone. “Ren! That’s no way to talk to a lady!”

Lawrence tries to push himself forward, glaring at his ‘friend’. “Y-you take that back! H-how dare you! She d-deserves better than that!”

The support is clearly appreciated, given that Bridget takes a step closer to Lawrence. “Honestly, Ren, I thought you were more well-mannered than that! I thought you were a gentleman!”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong!” Ren hisses, and produces a knife from one of the closet’s shelves. “And, you know what… no matter which one of you goes down, I’ll be doing the world a favor by preventing either of you from reproducing. _You’re_ stupid and naive…” He flicks the knife lazily in Bridget’s direction. “And you? You’re just a creep.”  The blade turns to Lawrence. “The world doesn’t need smaller, more annoying versions of either of you running around. Wow – imagine if you two had a baby together, right? Man, that would be even worse.”

The fox-boy crouches down behind Lawrence for a moment, his little claws digging into the blonde’s shoulder. “So here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re all gonna have a little fun together.” His smile is half playful and half serious as he holds the knife out toward Bridget. “Lawrence _was_ going to be my new best friend, but… well, Bridget, then I met you! You’re easily twice as much of a friend as he is.”

Blackened lashes blink furiously over her eyes, her eyebrows drawing up in confusion. If Lawrence looks hard enough, there’s some kind of little outrage there too, despite the fact that Bridget is a nice person. “W… what?? What are you talking about?”

“Things change pretty quickly, though.” It’s like Ren isn’t even paying attention to her. “You’re going to be my new friend, and we’re going to share something really special! So, here.” The knife is shoved her way, more insistently. “We’re all ready. Take this. Make him cry. Make him bleed. Kill him. It’s the only way for us to be bonded like this. Then we’ll _really_ be great friends!”

“Ah… I… w… I, um…” For once, it seems like the apparently always outgoing young lady is at a loss for words. She actually takes the knife, though. Stares at it for a moment, or maybe longer. Her eyes flit from it to Ren to Lawrence and then all the way back through again. Is… is she actually considering this? She is! She’s thinking about hurting him just because Ren told her to! “O… okay…”

Oh, God. Lawrence was wrong about her. She’s going to hurt him. Her pretty fingers are going to pilot that blade to slice through his flesh until he’s dead. Dead for real. She’s not good. He wants to take back every nice thing he ever thought about her. Beautiful people are just like flowers – they’re _liars_ – they can’t be trusted–

The sound of something ripping and then the thud of a body on the floor ring through the room. Suddenly, Lawrence can move again.

“Come on, Lawrence!” The knife is still in Bridget’s hand as she grabs for Lawrence’s arm, now free from rope and zip ties just like the other arm is. She pulls him toward the door, only letting go of him so that she can work it open with shaking hands.

As the two of them make their getaway to the rest of the house, Lawrence gets only a glimpse of Ren in the closet. His ‘friend’ is curled in on himself, holding his stomach and groaning in pain, having clearly been caught off guard by Bridget’s assault. Serves him right. A well of guilt and disgust bubbles up in the blonde’s chest at the thought that he once actually kind of trusted Ren.

Bridget’s hands fumble with the doorknob again so that she can close and lock the door to the closet before Ren recovers. Even thought she manages to get it locked, it seems pretty clear to both of them that it won’t hold Ren for long. He’s not human, after all; the strength he needed to drag Lawrence in here proved that. “T-that’s not a permanent fix… come on!” Her hand grabs at his arm again, eyes darting around the house. “We need to hide!”

As far as Lawrence sees it, there are three options. They can go through the door under the stairs (which probably leads to a basement), they can go upstairs, or they can just try to run outside.

His heart pounds in his ears, and he grabs her hand, and he runs for the front door.


End file.
